


we're the alley cats

by beenana



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Bladder shyness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wetting, pee desperation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9078190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beenana/pseuds/beenana
Summary: Josh had told himself that he wasn’t going to say anything – had repeated it over and over in his head on a loop until the phrase barely even sounded like real words – but halfway through their agonizingly slow journey down the red carpet he just can’t take it anymore.  He cracks.


  “Ty, I have to pee,” he whispers into his friend’s ear.

Josh gets in a bit of a situation at an award's show and Tyler helps him out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry about this but not really
> 
> title from halsey's "empty gold" just because i'm cheesy
> 
> i don't own twenty one pilots and i'm sure they're very happy about that

Josh had told himself that he wasn’t going to say anything – had repeated it over and over in his head on a loop until the phrase barely even sounded like real words – but halfway through their agonizingly slow journey down the red carpet he just can’t take it anymore.  He cracks.

“Ty, I have to pee,” he whispers into his friend’s ear, hoping the myriad of photographers won’t pick up on it.  The area is loud, filled with shouted instructions from celebrity handlers and a thrumming bass down so low it vibrates in Josh’s chest.  There’s no way anyone but Tyler should be able to hear him, but it still makes Josh’s stomach flip with nerves.  It does nothing to help his discomfort.

“You serious?” Tyler turns to look at him, a bit disgruntled.  Josh knows how much Tyler hates red carpets and fancy events – they set him on edge and wear his patience so thin you can practically see through it.  “Right now?”

“Yes, _right now_ ,” Josh says defensively, tapping his fingers anxiously against his thighs.  His stomach hurts.  “I tried to go earlier but there were a whole bunch of people in the bathroom and I got nervous.”

At his words, Tyler’s face finally softens a little.  His eyebrows pull together in concern and he leaves a brief, fleeting touch on Josh’s shoulder.  “How bad is it?”  He sounds weary and Josh can’t blame him.  Being famous is stressful enough without adding Josh’s innumerable issues into the mix.

“Pretty bad,” Josh admits, the words coming out in a barely audible murmur.  He trusts Tyler to understand him – his best friend hasn’t let him down yet.  “I don’t know if I can wait until we finish the red carpet.”

That sets Tyler’s lips into a thin, hard line and Josh feels bad for making him anxious.  He can’t help it, though…he wouldn’t have mentioned it if he didn’t _really_ have to go.  At this point, just about the only things stopping him from crossing his legs like a little kid are the endlessly flashing cameras and the tinkling laughter of the Hollywood elite.  It makes him want to run and hide, preferably in a bathroom stall.

“Well, _try_ ,” Tyler hisses and Josh is taken aback by how _harsh_ it sounds.  It instantly kicks his heartbeat up, racing in his chest as they get herded to the next backdrop, surrounded by new photographers with new insults to hurl their way.  Josh can hardly hear them over the roaring in his ears and the discomfort in his belly.  He can’t have Tyler mad at him…he just _can’t_.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice shaky.  The photographers are probably having a field day – Josh has never been very good at hiding when he’s upset.  “I’m an idiot and a mess and this is all my fault and I—I’m just _so_ sorry!”

Tyler offers him another fluttery touch of his fingers, this time on Josh’s elbow.  “No, I’m just being a jerk,” Tyler concedes with a heavy sigh, shaking his head as if to clear it.  Josh immediately relaxes.  “I’m really overwhelmed right now, but that’s no excuse.  It’s not your fault, man…we’ll find our first available out and then we’ll get you to a bathroom, okay?”

Josh nods gratefully, though he knows in the back of his mind that a bathroom is going to do no good unless it’s completely empty.  But for now he pretends he’s normal and lets Tyler’s words comfort him.  He’ll be able to pee soon.

Unfortunately, their “out” still hasn’t appeared fifteen minutes later.  They’ve been drawn into an interview with Perez Hilton of all people, and a bathroom feels farther away than ever.  Josh is starting to get scared – he hasn’t been this close to wetting his pants since he was in elementary school. 

Josh is rocking up and down on his feet, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, when Perez calls him out.  “Why so tense, buddy?” he asks, slapping Josh on the shoulder and making him wince, his bladder protesting the sudden movement.  “Nervous you might not win the award?”

_Nervous I might piss all over the red carpet_ , Josh thinks bitterly, discretely pressing his thighs together.  “Something like that,” he says instead, an uneasy chuckle falling out of his mouth with all the grace of Tyler on a skateboard.  It’s awkward and forced and Josh hates every second of it.

Luckily, Perez is used to awkwardness – being the most hated blogger on the Internet will do that to you, Josh supposes – and he moves on, directing a question at Tyler instead.  Josh barely hears it, too focused on keeping his pee in his body to give the interview the attention it deserves.  Not even thirty seconds later, his bladder contracts painfully and Josh is done for, grabbing at Tyler’s hand in a blind panic as a spurt of _wet_ runs down his leg.  He can’t help it – he lets out a strangled noise that has both Perez and Tyler turning to him in alarm.

One look at his face and Tyler knows they need to get out of there.  While Josh holds his breath, trying with all his might not to leak again, Tyler quickly wraps up the interview, muttering things about _thanks for listening_ and _let’s do it again sometime_ and _we are so, so sorry_.  With that, he whisks Josh away, leaving Perez with his mouth hanging open.

They make a beeline for the doors into the venue, Josh whimpering the entire way.  “I’m gonna pee, Tyler,” he whispers, terror lacing his words and making them breathy.  “I’m gonna pee my fricking pants in front of all these people!”

“No, you’re not,” Tyler says firmly, yanking Josh by the wrist and setting a quick pace despite the way Josh’s thighs are nearly glued together.  “I’m not going to let you.”

They’re big words for such a small guy, but he sounds so determined Josh believes him.  That is, until they finally bust into the venue, breathless with exertion.  The line to the bathroom is about a mile long, winding around the lobby like the world’s most inconvenient boa constrictor.  Josh’s eyes fill with tears.

Tyler, however, refuses to be dissuaded.  “I’m getting you to the front of that line,” he says resolutely, his grip tightening on Josh’s arm until it almost hurts.  It’s just another pain added to the agony cocktail Josh has going on right now, so he doesn’t pull away.  He doesn’t see the point.  “And if they have anything to say, they can all just frick off.”

As much as Josh appreciates the sentiment, he knows they’re fighting a losing battle.  “I _can’t_ , Ty!” he cries, distressed as he feels himself leak again, wetness blooming hot on his thigh.  It’s all he can do not to burst into tears.  “I can’t use the bathroom in front of all of those people…I just _can’t_!”

“You’re about to literally piss your pants!”

“Stop yelling,” Josh begs, a few tears skating down his cheeks.  “Don’t you think I know that?”

“Okay, okay,” Tyler says, waving his hands desperately.  “Okay, Plan B.” 

Without another word, he drags Josh back out the front doors.  Josh is in too much pain to pay attention to anything other than the fire in his abdomen, but he’s still shocked when Tyler throws him into an alley running parallel to the venue and hisses, “Okay, do it and do it quick.  The paps are gonna notice us any second.”

Beyond desperate, Josh stumbles over to the drain tucked up against the curb, undoing his pants as fast as possible.  He has every intention of taking himself out and letting go, but he hears a noise behind him that makes his hands freeze up.  All of a sudden he’s minutely aware of where he is and what he’s about to do and it _terrifies_ him.

Hand clenched between his legs, Josh turns to look at Tyler, vision blurred with tears.  “What if they see me?” he whisper-screams, his entire body shaking.  “I don’t want them to see me, Ty!”

“ _Josh_ ,” Tyler says and his voice is gentle.  He shakes his head almost fondly before abandoning the mouth of the alley to sidle up next to Josh, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the way Josh is squirming and whimpering.  He curls his fingers lightly around Josh’s wrist.  “Do you trust me?”

Josh isn’t sure he trusts anyone at the moment, but his stomach hurts _so_ much and he can’t stop crying, so he nods wordlessly, tugging at the waistband of his boxers.  “Y-yeah,” he stutters out, going rigid when he feels his control slip again, wetness dripping down his leg.  It’s pure, white-hot agony trying to stop, but somehow he manages.  “Help me!”

Without waiting for permission, Tyler grabs Josh by the shoulders and turns him until his back is facing the main road.  Then, mumbling quiet reassurances under his breath – _you’re gonna be alright_ and _I’ve got you_ – Tyler throws an arm around Josh’s shoulders, pressing himself right up against his side until they’ve formed a small barricade.  “Listen,” Tyler says, his breath warm and soothing on Josh’s face.  “Even God himself couldn’t see past this wall of pure muscle, so _please_ just take a piss before you literally explode.  I promise I won’t peek.”

“Guh” is all Josh can say in answer, so desperate to get free of his clothes that his whole body is twitching.  But finally he does it, removing himself from his underwear and aiming at the drain, feeling feverish from head to toe.  For a moment he can’t do it, can’t get his body to unlock and just _go_ , but right as he’s gearing up to let out the most undignified sob of his life, Tyler drops his chin onto Josh’s shoulder and murmurs “you can do it” right into his ear.

That’s all it takes and Josh is peeing forcefully into the drain, so relieved he’s afraid he might fall over.  Tyler must be able to tell, because his arm slips from Josh’s shoulders down to his waist, holding him steady.  Josh hums out a grateful _mmm_ in response, his eyes falling closed.  For the first time all night, he feels relaxed and comfy and _good_.

“There you go,” Tyler says, laughing a little when Josh is still peeing twenty seconds later.  “That’s good…that’s so good, Josh.  You’re doing so well.”

It’s a little weird, maybe, but Josh hardly notices, caught up in the euphoria of his relief.  When it finally stops, it’s abrupt and he takes a shuddering breath.  His belly still hurts.  Ignoring the feeling, he goes to tuck himself back in, but Tyler stops him, squeezing at his hip slightly.  “Nuh-uh,” Tyler disagrees, shaking his head against Josh’s shoulder.  “Finish it up.  All the way.”

“Ty—”

“Do you wanna feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night?” Tyler demands, his fingers digging into Josh’s skin.  “You’re safe here, okay?  Finish it up.”

Embarrassed but grateful, Josh manages to relax just a few seconds more, letting the last little bit drip into the drain.  Then he’s finally, _finally_ empty, the tension leaving his body for good.  “Oh my gosh,” he whispers, doing his pants back up.  He pulls away from Tyler and sinks onto the sidewalk a safe distance from the dirty drain, his face so hot with shame he’s sure he must be glowing.  “Oh my gosh, that’s the _worst_ thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Tyler smirks, settling down next to Josh on the curb and propping his chin in his hands.  “Does it beat the time I chucked a basketball at your dick?”

Taken off guard, Josh snorts out a laugh.  “Definitely.”

“What about the time Mark drew on your face with a Sharpie while you were sleeping?”

“Absolutely.”

“ _Okay_ , what about the time Michael slapped your butt so hard it left a hand-shaped bruise?  You couldn’t sit right for two days.”

“I’d forgotten about that one,” Josh admits, but he still shakes his head.  “Yeah, it’s even worse than that.”

“Alright, well…how about the time I—”

“Ty- _ler_ ,” Josh cuts in, giggling despite himself.  “Suffice it to say I’m really, really embarrassed right now.”

“Jo- _osh_ ,” Tyler mimics him, bumping their shoulders together in comfortable comradery.  “And I’m just saying you don’t have to be, alright?  It’s not your fault you had to go and it’s not your fault public bathrooms make you nervous…stuff happens.  I won’t tell anyone, if that makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t,” Josh says matter-of-factly, squirming around in annoyance.  The left leg of his pants is wet down to mid-thigh and the fabric is starting to itch.  At this point, Josh can’t imagine walking back into the venue – everyone will take one look at him and know what happened.  It’s not exactly the kind of press story Twenty One Pilots was hoping for tonight.

Tyler, for his part, doesn’t seem too bothered.  He bites his lip thoughtfully then asks, his eyes glittering in the near-darkness, “Would it make you feel better if I told you something embarrassing about myself?  That way we’d be even.”

It’s absurd and perhaps a bit childish, but Josh finds himself nodding eagerly.  “Yeah, tell me a good one!”

“Okay,” Tyler whispers, leaning in so close Josh can feel his lips moving against his ear.  “You know how I said I wouldn’t peek?  I lied.  I peeked _so_ bad.”

A wave of prickly hot surprise washes over Josh and he pulls away in shock.  “You didn’t!” he gasps, staring at his best friend.  “You did _not_!”

“I did,” Tyler says firmly, his expression the kind of serious usually reserved for videogames and Sunday church and new songs.  “I did, Josh.  I looked at your dick and I _kept_ looking at your dick and you know the most embarrassing thing of all?  I thought it looked fairly alright.”

In an instant the squirmy feeling disappears and Josh is affronted.  “ _Fairly alright_?” he cries, throwing his hands in the air in disbelief.  “It’s only _fairly alright_?”

“I mean, it was _peeing_ , Josh,” Tyler answers solemnly, looking off into the middle distance like he’s having a flashback.  Josh rolls his eyes.  “Maybe if it was just chilling it’d be _very_ alright.”

“Well, thanks for that vote of confidence, you butthole!”

They sit quietly for a few moments before Josh sighs heavily and drops his head onto Tyler’s shoulder.  “Thank you,” he whispers so quietly he can hardly hear himself.  “For putting up with me.”

“Anytime.”

When he feels Tyler’s lips press hot and feather-light against his forehead, Josh’s face goes warm.  But this time, he’s not embarrassed.  This time he’s happy and calm and _loved_ , so he scoots in close and hugs Tyler around the waist.  The award show is sure to be starting at any minute, but Josh can’t bring himself to care.

And if the way Tyler sheepishly mumbles _love you_ into Josh’s hair is anything to go by, he doesn’t care either.


End file.
